One More Year
by LifesEagle
Summary: Rarity and Spike come closer together after several years have passed, but things are not going smoothly. RarityxSpike and Sweetie BellexSpike. Rated M for the time being but subject to change  for later chapters
1. Morning in Equestria

Morning in Equestria. The morning light crept slowly over the rolling hills of the countryside, slowly warming the flowers and leaves of the pony gardens and eventually finding its way through the windows of Carousel Boutique. As the glow gradually filled the room Rarity began to shift in sleep, her forehead creased into a slight frown. She began to emerge from what had been a restless sleep; all night she had been plagued by dreams of figures lingering in shadows and faint, confused voices coming at her from all sides. Her eyes suddenly snapped open; the birds outside had just begun to sing and the sunlight reflecting off her many mirrors cast bright strips of light across the room. Her heart was instantly cheered and she breathed a sigh of relief at what was clearly a calm and beautiful morning and after cursing herself for getting so worked up over her dream she slipped out of bed, her hooves cold upon the tiled floor. Opalescence growled a little as the bed sheets were disturbed: she had been fast asleep next to Rarity for warmth during the cold night and the sudden lack of the mare's warmth lead Opal to move into the space Rarity had vacated, muttering softly in her feline way as she padded around in circles and attempted to make herself more comfortable. Rarity laughed softly at her pet's behaviour and moved towards the window to view Ponyville on this beautiful spring morning.

It was, as Rarity predicted, a glorious morning. Already the town was beginning to stir as windows were opened and the first ponies emerged from their houses to begin the day's chores. Rarity was suddenly reminded of all she had to do that day but, with a sudden realisation she realised that she did not have the heart to begin accomplishing anything. After the events of the past few days she did not know whether or not she could even begin to uphold the pretence of normality. She leant her head forward so her forehead rested on the cool glass and breathed deeply. Her dream was still worrying her but the air in the room was also beginning to choke her as she felt that something was out of place in the familiar surroundings of her room. She turned to face the room and looked around the glowing room but only saw her familiar mannequins and rolled-up fabric stashed neatly on the shelves, half-made dresses scattered on the floor. She began to circulate the room and she inspected every item that she passed, analysing her surroundings with her keen eye. The air of doubt and confusion was making her nervous and she developed butterflies in her stomach; in her anxiety she began to trot, her eyes wildly searching for the source of her fear. Suddenly, she stopped short: there, on her bedside table, was the Thing that was Out of Place. It had been right there the entire time whilst Rarity had been sleeping: a letter, sealed and placed neatly right next to the small vase she kept there that held several yellow flowers.

Rarity gulped, suddenly paralysed by fear. It was as if the air in the room had been replaced by water; the walk to the table was agonisingly slow and she felt that she couldn't breathe and that drowning was an inevitability. She could barely control the magic required to lift the letter and break the seal, her eyes already filling with tears as she brought the letter close to her face for her to read.

_Dear Rarity_, it began.

_I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me. Many years from now, when the pain has eased, maybe you will finally understand._

The letter went on and on and Rarity's breathing gradually slowed to a halt. Whilst she read the letter the light in the room gradually began to fade and the air grew cold; clouds were beginning to rapidly cover the sky despite no storm having been planned. She read the last of the letter in one breath, her lungs screaming with pain. As she reached the signature she finally breathed out, her breath misting in the suddenly freezing room.

"No..." she whispered, her eyes pricking with tears. "No!"

She began to run. The sound of her hooves upon the floor echoed upon the walls as she made for the stairs, bounding down the steps in frantic leaps. She burst out of her front door and stepped out into the dark outdoors; the clouds were becoming thick and black and were now covering the entire sky. Rarity cringed as a sudden gust of wind chilled her to the bone, her damp eyes stinging with cold. She began to run again, faster and faster across the town square and towards Twilight's gigantic tree home that cast a great shadow upon the ground. Far off in the distance, a thunderclap sounded.

_Please... please let it not be too late..._

Thank you for reading, everypony! This is my first fanfic, well, ever. A double-chapter double whammy for the time being though I am somewhat on a roll with this story and hope to churn out more soon.


	2. Evening in Equestria

ONE WEEK EARLIER

Evening in Equestria. It was an unusually warm spring night in Ponyville and Twilight Sparkle had decided to take advantage of the good weather and move the party outside. She used her magic to scoop up the long table, punchbowl and all, and hoist it out the door onto the lawn just outside of her tree. Already the party venue looked magical; Twilight had enchanted some star-shaped origami to glow and float in the air just above the tables and dreamy classical music was playing from the gramophone. The sky was clear and starry tonight and a warm breeze gently rustled the origami, adding a zen atmosphere to an already calm night. Twilight sighed in contentment; at last, all the waiting was over. Tonight would be a night to remember.

"What a fantastic job, Twilight!" came a low voice from the doorway. Twilight turned to great the speaker; Spike stepped out of the library onto the lawn, his eyes sweeping the decorations with excitement. Twilight glowed with pride to see him today: a mature at long last. A mixture of her own brand of magic and Zecora's mysterious ways had allowed him to grow yet had prevented him from reaching a monstrous size - for the time being, at least. For now he was larger and more muscular than he had ever been before: not quite a fully grown dragon but certainly no longer a baby anymore. For argument's sake Twilight now saw him as an adult in every way: he was certainly more mature in his ways and mannerisms and was even a hard-working and vital part of the Ponyville community. This was to be the grand celebration to celebrate his adulthood in the eyes of pony society, similar to the Cutecinera that he never had.

"Thanks, Spike," Twilight said with a slight blush. She was distinctly proud of how distinguished the venue looked: not a patch on Pinkie Pie's blowouts, of course, but certainly elegant yet fun enough to please everypony. She gave Spike a long, warm hug as he came towards her: he was certainly much _taller_ these days than ever before. "You should be proud of yourself, too, Spike. You are certainly one of the most vital features in our little town. I'm sure the whole town is proud of you."

Now it was Spike's turn to blush. "Shucks, Twilight," he muttered. He hurriedly changed the subject before she could embarrass him anymore. "What time do you think the others will be getting here?"

"Any minute now, I should think," Twilight replied, arranging some plastic cups neatly into a pyramid. "Are you ready to greet them? I just need to slip into my dress."

"I am stunningly handsome as usual," Spike said with a smile, adjusting the bow tie of his custom-made tuxedo as he did so. He _did_ look handsome, Twilight thought, as she trotted back into the house to get dressed, leaving Spike alone on the lawn. The dragon began to breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the calm of the evening and he sat down on a garden bench so he could better appreciate the air of excitement. Tonight was the night, he just knew it. After all this time, after all this waiting, he was finally going to tell her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of ponies. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie had arrived right on time, afraid of being late in Fluttershy's case and afraid of missing any fun in Pinkie's. They were draped in their old Gala dresses as was the tradition: since the debacle at the Grand Galloping Gala all those years ago the friends had vowed to make at least one party every year "the best night ever". This year Spike had requested that his birthday be the night and the ponies had all been keen on the idea. The two ponies had warm, joyful smiles on their faces as they greeted Spike and moved across the lawn to the bench where he was seated.

"Good evening, oh birthday dragon of Spikeyness!" Pinkie shrieked, dodging chairs and tables as she raced to him. She launched herself at his chest and squeezed him, barely winding the dragon at all. Fluttershy blinked as she approached him; she was aware that Spike would never hurt her but a part of her always stopped her from approaching the maturing dragon as fast as Pinkie Pie could. _Old habits die hard_, thought Spike fondly.

From this point on, ponies gradually began to arrive at the party. For this special event the entire town had been invited and soon the lawn was filled with the sound of eagerly chatting ponies complimenting each other on their evening gowns . The table that had been set aside for Spike's presents was already groaning under the weight of dozens of presents for Spike; this year, as in most preceding years, presents no longer posed a threat to Spike's development. If anything it was quite the opposite: Spike had become quite uncomfortable when it came to receiving gifts and his humble nature meant that he wanted for little in his comfortable life with Twilight. Soon Rainbow Dash and Applejack arrived together and Twilight finally emerged from the library and mingled with the other guests as the party entered full swing. Spike began to circulate the lawn and talk with the guests, ever the gracious host, but he did so somewhat reluctantly, searching the party with anxious eyes. The guestlist was not yet complete. Across the lawn he spied Sweetie Belle chatting with her friends, tossing her long mane as she laughed. Spike weaved his way over to her quickly, beaming as he arrived at the white pony's side.

"Sweetie Belle..." Spike began, but Sweetie Belle laughed softly so as to cut him short.

"Don't worry, Spike. She's on her way. I heard she was having a slight bit of trouble. And everything is okay, don't worry," she added quickly as she saw Spike flinch. "It's the _good_ kind of trouble."

Spike nodded and turned away without a word, leaving Sweetie Belle and the rest of the Cutie Mark Crusaders to their silent, hurried discussion. Not that those young mares were crusading anymore: they had earned their cutie marks long ago. Much time had passed since he and Twilight Sparkle had arrived in Ponyville. He looked over at Twilight who was gesturing to the floating origami as she spoke with Cheerilee, probably explaining how she cast the light spell. Spike was so grateful to his friend for organising this party for him and he was struck by a sudden twinge of guilt as he realised that he was _still_ feeling anxious. He looked around the party again, searching. This time his eyes fell upon a figure emerging out of the darkness into the warm glow of the lawn; a pony decked in a pink, purple and gold dress and wearing around her neck a large fire ruby on a gold chain. As she stepped onto the lawn she raised her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with warmth as she moved in his direction. Spike willed himself to move to but the air had gone from his lungs and the bustle of the party had faded into silence; she stopped in front of Spike and paused, watching him for a moment before throwing her hooves around him in a warm, enveloping hug. Spike slowly wrapped his arms around her in return and he realised that he was completely unable to breathe.

"Spikey-Wikey," Rarity murmured softly, quiet enough so that only Spike could hear. "Happy birthday."


	3. A Confidential Discussion

Rarity stepped back from her hug with Spike to look him up and down, her critical eye always a threat to the average pony. "One year older," she breathed. "I can't believe how much you've grown." She smirked, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "But you still look like a baby dragon to me."

_Ouch_, thought Spike. He smiled weakly and was now aware that the air and ambient noise had appeared to return to his senses. The chattering of ponies drowned out the echo of Rarity's voice in his ear and he was firmly back on the ground. Rarity stood patiently, waiting for him to say something; when she didn't she laughed a tinkling laugh and levitated a beautifully wrapped gift in front of him, shaking it gently so he could hear the object inside rattle. "I'm going to put your present down and say hello to Twilight now, darling," she said and before Spike could reply she had already disappeared into the throng of ponies, her gift floating in the air behind her like a flag.

Spike began to circulate the lawn again, cursing softly and dragging his feet as he went. Twilight had praised him last week on how articulate he had become but he was beginning to think that compliment was somewhat embellished. He began to talk with the guests, aware that he could be perceived as being a bad host, and all the ponies cheerfully cooed his tuxedo and how much he had grown over and over again, struggling to meet his eye due to his large height. Spike's heart, however, was no longer in it; the socialising was now a chore and he felt his smiles and thank-yous become robotic and contrived. He cursed himself again when he caught his mind drifting as he spoke to Junebug about the extensive garlands of flowers she had brought as his gift, embarrassed that he was not giving the party his all as Twilight had always taught him. _Snap out of it, _he thought angrily. _Focus_.

"Junebug, may I please butt in?" came a voice that cut suddenly into Spike's reverie. It was Sweetie Belle again, her smile warm yet somehow vacant as she glanced earnestly at the other pony. Junebug hurriedly excused them and Sweetie Belle nodded in the direction of the library entrance, trotting off hastily towards the door and leaving Spike to follow. When they both had stepped into the shadowy library Sweetie Belle shut the door quietly, blocking out the noise from the party outside. Dim strips of light streamed in from the windows at the top of the room casting spotlights upon the floor, silhouetting Sweetie Belle as she moved further into the room. She was no longer the stroppy filly that he had once known but a stunningly beautiful young mare, full of potential and youthful vitality. Her cutie mark that she had earned long ago - a heart woven into a treble clef - represented not only her love of music but her beautiful and kindly heart. She had fast become one of the kindest and calmest ponies in Ponyville and rivalled even Fluttershy for her compassion. Her sudden rush to excuse herself from the party had worried Spike; it was uncharacteristic of Sweetie Belle to be anything other than calm these days and her obvious anxiety was unsettling to see. Spike got the impression that she was finding it hard to speak about whatever was troubling her and he decided to help ease her along a little, clearing his throat and stepping forward into the dim light.

"Is... everything alright, Sweetie Belle?" he asked cautiously. The pony stood very still, her head bent forward slightly so her long pink and purple mane skimmed slightly upon the floor. She did not respond instantly to Spike's question and slowly turned to face him after several moments had passed, meeting his gaze with worried eyes. She took a few steps forward into one of the faint spotlights, her eyes shining.

"I'm worried about Rarity, Spike," she said quietly. She looked away from him and cast her gaze at the top shelves of books as if she were searching for something. "She hasn't been herself lately. I'm worried that something serious has happened and that she is too afraid to tell me."

Spike frowned as he heard this news, his spikes flexing slightly along his spine. If this was of such concern to Sweetie Belle, why did she not bring this up when he had spoken to her earlier at the party before Rarity had arrived? She appeared to be comfortable enough then as she laughed and mingled with her friends. Now she was anxious and almost jittery or, at the very least, bordering on insincere; she was clearly finding it difficult to meet Spike's eye as she told him this which already made him suspicious. However, she was still Rarity's sister, so any concerns she had about Rarity herself must be taken seriously.

"Tell me precisely what the problem is, Sweetie B," Spike said slowly but forcefully. He was determined to get some element of truth out of the pony and her unsettling behaviour was putting him more and more on the edge as the moments passed. "Please be honest. What is going on?"

Sweetie Belle forced herself to meet Spike's gaze again and she pulled herself up to her full height. "All I can say is that she's not herself. I just know these things. I'm her sister."

Spike sighed in exasperation. "Please, Sweetie Belle. Is she in trouble with someone?" Sweetie Belle shook her head. "Is she sick? Is she having money troubles? Did she stub her toe?"

Sweetie Belle frowned and snorted loudly. "No need to get sarky, Spike. I don't know what to tell you except this: she's not in her right mind at the moment. I don't know what the problem is or even if there _is_ a problem so there is no point in asking _me_."

"Why are you telling me this?" Spike growled softly. The atmosphere between the two of them had taken a sudden turn and Spike wondered how the situation had escalated so rapidly to this point. "Why tear me away from my party to tell me this vague information?"

Sweetie Belle tapped her hoof on the wooden floor. "I just think that you should be careful about what you say to her, Spike. Just to keep it in mind. To help her with whatever is bothering her, I suppose. I don't know, really. Who am I, I suppose? Only her sister." These last words she spat out with a deadly venom and before Spike could answer her she began to exit the room in a rapid trot, breezing past Spike and flinging the door open before her with her magic before closing the door quickly but quietly behind her. Spike was left alone in the dark room, the faint sounds of ponies laughing just faintly reaching him through the thick wooden door. He closed his eyes and let out his breath slowly, thinking calm thoughts so as to re-balance his mind.

"What in Equestria just happened?" he asked the library, his voice echoing quietly in the vacant room.

_Inspiration for Sweetie Belle's cutie mark goes to **LadyRoxanne7** at deviantART_


	4. A Private Walk

Spike rejoined the party: it was as if he had never left. This time, however, he made no attempt to socialise with the guests and he moved to sit at the garden bench where he had been resting earlier. While seated he began to gather his thoughts and think about what Sweetie Belle had said to him. Why did she feel that that moment was the most appropriate time to tell him such a thing about Rarity? Was there really something bothering her? He tapped his tail against a leg of the bench in thought. There were too many questions and this was not the time or the place. _But_... why _did_ Sweetie Belle chose now? It must be urgent. Did something happen between Rarity's arrival and Sweetie Belle's intervention? Did it have something to do with his birthday? Maybe when he-

"Knock knock?" said Rarity.

Spike jumped, snapping out of his worried daydream in an instant. Rarity chuckled and gently tapped Spike's front leg with her hoof. "This is no time for dreaming, Spikey. It's birthday cake time and I will not let you miss such a tradition because your head is up in Cloudsdale somewhere. Besides," she added, her eyes twinkling, "you have to think of your wish first."

Spike grinned. "Maybe I should wish for a horn so I can put Twilight in her place." Rarity laughed at his joke and gestured over to the centre of the lawn where the party guests were already forming a large circle, awaiting the arrival of the cake. Spike weaved his way through the crowd until he was the centre of attention once again and he took the opportunity to lift his spirits; he began to flex his spines and make pseudo-arrogant comments for comic effect, acting as the compere he wished he could be. The laughter of the ponies at his antics made him forget about Sweetie Belle's comments and, as the gigantic ruby-iced cake was wheeled in to the centre of the circle by Twilight Sparkle, his worries were all but forgotten.

"For he's a jolly good draaa-gooonnn," Twilight began and before long the other guests had joined her in song, their united voices catching on the breeze. Spike glowed with happiness: at moments like this, life was a joy. As they sand he looked around the circle at his friends and peers, their eyes shining with pride for their friend. As the song reached a crescendo Rainbow Dash took to the air, soaring in an arc over the proceedings to light up the town with a rainbow that shimmered in the moonlight. Pinkie Pie screeched the last few notes and Applejack lead the applause; the lawn then thundered with the sounds of dozens of hooves applauding Spike, their much beloved dragon. All looked happy and excited except for Sweetie Belle who Spike could spy n the crowd from his high vantage point; she stood a little way from the others with a slight yet absent smile upon her anxious-looking face.

And then there was Rarity. She stood at the edge of the circle opposite Spike, almost hidden behind the tall tiers of the cake. Her smile was not as enthusiastic ast that of the other ponies: if anything, she looked as anxious as her sister did at this point. She was watching him intently as he drew a big breath and blew out the eighteen candles; a puff of smoke curled and twisted into the air above the cake as the guests broke out into applause again and returned to talking amongst themselves as Twilight wheeled the cake away to serve it to the hungry-looking ponies. Spike used one of his claws to wave away the troublesome smoke; while his attention was diverted Rarity approached him, a smile back on her pale face.

"Spike, sweetie?" she said softly. Spike jumped for the second time in a few minutes, a second puff of smoke finding its way out of his nose in response.

"Anything I can help you with, Rarity?" he asked, waving away the fresh puff of smoke more anxiously than before. The smoke was irritating the glowing stars, the ethereal lights within the paper dancing violently as they were disturbed.

Rarity giggled at Spike's behaviour . "Do you think we could have a word, just you and I?" she asked almost cautiously, glancing up at Spike as he adjusted the origami back into position. "I haven't had any time to speak to you recently. But if you want to stay with your guests then I completely understand-"

"It's no problem, really," Spike interjected, glancing over at Sweetie Belle who had caught his attention yet again. She had not taken her eyes off him since the guests had sung happy birthday; she stood still as a statue at the peripherals of the party and she looked as if she were leaning forward slightly , like she was trying to hear what they were saying. "Shall we, um, go, there...?" Spike gestured vaguely in the direction of the town square which he knew would be deserted at this time, considering that the majority of the town was gathered on the lawn with them. It would ensure maximum privacy for whatever she wished to say, he thought.

"That sounds splendid, Spike," Rarity replied politely. Together they walked away from the lawn towards the town square in silence and, as far as Spike could tell, nobody noticed them leave; nobody except for Sweetie Belle who only moved to turn her head as she watched them go, her face as unreadable as a blank page.

The night was getting cooler. The gentle night breeze was no longer as warm as it had been and Spike noticed Rarity's fur bristle in response to the sudden chill as they walked.

"Rarity, would you like a coat? I can run back and get one for you if-"

"No, Spike, that won't be necessary," Rarity said quickly, gritting her teeth as if in response to the cold. As she did this Spike picked up on a sudden worrying vibe that Rarity appeared to be 'giving off' as they walked; she was walking a few feet away from him and her head was not held as high as usual. Maybe this was not what he had been expecting. Maybe he had the wrong end of the stick entirely. Maybe-

"Are you having a good birthday, Spike?" Rarity asked suddenly. Spike nodded as Rarity went on about how lucky he was to have so many ponies attend his party and how many presents he had received, some of them posted as far away as Canterlot and from such prestigious individuals such as the Royal Sisters themselves. As she made what appeared to be small talk - _small talk...?_ - she began to look away in the distance as if she were searching for something in the clouds above the town.

"What is this really about, Rarity?" Spike asked suddenly with a tinge of impatience as Rarity discussed how beautiful his cake had been. She snapped her jaw shut with an indignant click and said nothing more about the party yet she did not answer his question. Spike instantly regretted his harsh interruption and decided that it would be best to be courteous to the classy mare. "Would you like to take a seat, Rarity?" he asked her politely, indicating a bench in the square that was surrounded by new spring buds. Rarity nodded ad the two of them sat down on the bench in silence; from here they could hear the chatting of the ponies and see the long shadows that the origami stars cast upon the ground.

"I brought you out here to give you your present, Spike," Rarity said, breaking the silence. "And no, before you say it, that was your _other_ present. That silly old thing isn't my true gift to you, it's just there so I didn't appear to be rude. I have your real present right here, Spikey. I wanted to giveit to you in private." The unicorn smiled up at the dragon, her eyes glistening in the moonlight. Spike resisted the urge to gulp, shiver or even stare at her too intently. He was not expecting a present like this, one that needed to be given in private, as she put it. She levitated a small velvet box out of the folds in her dress and levitated it towards Spike: he opened up his claws and the box dropped into them, the blue velvet colour clashing against the purple of his scales. "Open it, please do," Rarity encouraged in her soft, sweet voice. Spike opened the lid.

Inside the box was a small emerald. The gem was dull and far from shiny and was small in comparison to most of the jewels Rarity would use on the average fashion design. It was mounted on a thin gold chain like a necklace, however, the chain was short and it looked like it would barely fit around Rarity's head, let alone Spike's.

"Do you remember me telling you my cutie mark story, Spike?" Rarity asked in a voice so soft that Spike almost missed it. "When I found all those jewels in that rock I felt like my dreams had come true, that I had found my reason for living. I went all out decorating those costumes for the performance but I knew that I would want a reminder of how I found my destiny just in case I... forgot." She levitated the gem out of the box and stretched out the chain so it floated in the air as if it were worn by an invisible pony. "As a filly I mounted the gem onto this chain so I could wear it as a necklace so I could in some way accessorise my cutie mark. As I grew the chain was too small to fit around my head and I felt like it was no longer necessary to keep the gem as a constant reminder as I entered the world of fashion and worked with gemstones every day. But I never disposed of this gem because of what it meant to me." Rarity looked up at Spike with a warm, enveloping gaze and the dragon felt the world melt away for the second time that night as the enormous value of the gift suddenly came clear.

"Rarity, I..." Spike began, his voice weak as his throat became dry. "I... don't know what to say. Why do you feel the need to present me with such a... valued gift?"

Rarity crinkled up her eyes again as she smiled. "Because you love gemstones as much as I do, Spike. Sure, we love them for different reasons: I love to create with them and you love to destroy them, as it t'were. But that doesn't mean that we are opposites. I like to think that we are part of some kind of... circle." She suddenly blushed and turned away. "Oooh, Spike, ignore that last remark. It was possibly the cheesiest thing I have said in a long time."

Spike chuckled but said nothing. He plucked the necklace out of the air from where Rarity was holding it and he rested it upon his claws, watching the fluid way in which the chain moved as he flexed his fingers. It was such a delicate necklace: hardly the item for a dragon to handle. Yet Rarity felt it important to share one of her defining features with him on this night of all nights: he was hardly one to complain. If she was brave enough to open her heart to him then he would be brave, too. "Rarity, I..." he began.

"Hold on Spike, I'm not quite finished," Rarity said quickly, her tone suddenly a touch more stern than it had been a moment ago. She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Spike could sense that another deep conversation was coming. These unicorns: they were just so passionate! She turned to face him and tilted her head slightly, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "What do you think of my sister?"

Now it was Spike's turn to frown. "What do you-"

"I mean, do you think she's nice? Do you think she's friendly? Do you think she's pretty?"

"I never really-"

"Oh, you must have thought something," Rarity said sharply. She had suddenly come over all fierce. _Those sisters are more alike than they realise_, thought Spike. "She's a beautiful young mare, you must have noticed that. She is one of the most popular ponies in the town and everybody loves her. And her singing voice is hypnotically beautiful, as you know."

Spike lowered his head slightly so his eyes lined up more with hers. "What are you trying to say, Rarity?" The mare sighed, looking away into the distance again, as if something out there had caught her eye. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"What I'm saying, Spike, is that I have the impression that you... feel something for my sister. I never had this impression before tonight but somehow at this party I realised that she has been catching your eye in a way that, well... that I knew would come eventually. It has not escaped my attention that Sweetie Belle is possibly one of the most beautiful mares to live in Ponyville, even... even more so than I. I knew that one day she would attract the attention of a suitor who would treat her as if she is the princess she _should_ have been. I love her more than anything and all I want for her is happiness. It has also come to my attention that she returns your feelings so I see no reason why you should not approach her with a proposition, as it t'were-"

At this point, Spike suddenly snapped out of his dream. His dream over the course of Rarity's speech had ceased to be a world of bliss and undeniable calm but a sinking, despairing hell: the clouds in his heaven had turned black and his stomach had ceased to have a bottom, the feeling of nausea creeping to the tip of every claw. Rarity's voice had become a distant echo in his mind as he listened to her words but at this latest revelation he felt the need to engage with reality once more.

"Wait one moment, Rarity. You say that... that Sweetie Belle has feelings for me?"

Rarity nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

Spike looked away quickly. "For how long?"

Rarity shrugged. "I am not sure. I think she has felt this way for a couple of years. But she has only recently come clean, you could say, recently. I was convinced that you didn't feel the same way but tonight I realised that I was wrong. I was tempted to act in the defensive big sister role but I know now that that would not do any good to either of you." She looked up at Spike again, her eyes damp and glistening in the evening light. "Just... please do one thing for me, Spike."

"Anything," Spike murmured.

"Treat her well, Spike," Rarity whispered. "Love her as she deserves to be loved. She is the most amazing mare in Equestria and you... you are the finest dragon that has ever lived, I should think. If anyone could treat her in the way that she deserves it would be you." Rarity smiled weakly and stood up, sweeping her mane back into position and dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. "If you don't mind, Spike, I am going to have an early night. It has been a fantastic party, as always. My compliments to Twilight Sparkle for such a lovely evening." Before Spike could say anything more she was gone, her dress whispering on the ground as she hurried away into the night, leaving Spike seated upon the bench in the cold night air, Rarity's necklace still resting in his claws.


	5. So many Questions

The town clock had already chimed one in the morning by the time Spike returned to the party. After Rarity had left him alone on the bench in the town square he did not feel like returning to the throng of ponies back at the library who would all say the same things to him over and over and he would wear his fake smile and feign interest in the party around him. His interest in his birthday had long faded and all he wanted at this moment was to be alone with his thoughts and, if possible, partake in as little to do with ponies as he could manage.

It was this that lead him to the outskirts of the Everfree Forest to patrol the tree line and contemplate the evening's events. To his surprise his mind was not on Rarity but on Sweetie Belle as he combed his memories over and over for signs of affection from the young mare; he was sceptical, however, as he was afraid that his memories may be distorted by what he now knew about her. The sight of her watching him as he blew out his candles haunted him, what with her earnest gaze and her distance from all the other ponies at the party. What had been on her mind? Once again, his mind turned to the questions he had asked himself earlier in the evening. Why did Sweetie Belle feel that tonight was the night to tell him about Rarity's behaviour? Did it have something to do with her feelings for him? Did Rarity know that she had spoken to him? Did Sweetie Belle know about his feelings for Rarity?

With a low roar Spike ran his front claws down the trunk of a nearby tree, ripping off whole chunks of bark that floated to the ground. All these questions! There was too much to figure out, too much behaviour to analyse and, most importantly, he _still_ hadn't told Rarity about his feelings. Sure, he knew she knew _once_, but things needed to be... refreshed. Maybe Rarity thought that that was then and this is now: that Spike had moved on once he had reached maturity and he had a new romantic interest that suited him more. The more he thought about it, however, the less he was convinced by that final statement: what, after all, did Spike have in common with Sweetie Belle? It was never as if the two of them had had great adventures or emotional connections with each other like he and Rarity had once. Sweetie Belle was always on the peripheral, concerned with firstly her cutie mark and then her blossoming music career.

_You're doing it again_, Spike thought to himself as he caught himself mulling over the finer details yet again. He looked up at the sky and watched the thin clouds moving slowly across the moon, standing still as a stone as he tried to calm the storm in his mind. After a long while had passed he decided that he should maybe return to the party. It was, after all, his birthday.

As he approached the library he noticed that it had fallen quite quiet: only the sound of the breeze and his own padded footsteps disturbed the night. The lawn was still glowing with the light of the origami stars but the venue was deserted; with a gulp he realised that the party had ended and he had not been there to see the guests off. He knew before he arrived that there was going to be trouble and, right on cue, the door to the tree opened to reveal Twilight Sparkle, minus her gala dress and her mane in a mess. Her eyes had a look of fury that made Spike want to flee into the Everfree Forest and never return but, like the number one assistant that he was, he was ready to face the music.

"Where have you been, Spike?" Twilight Sparkle's voice was even and controlled but her fury was undoubtedly clear. As he got closer he realised that she was not just angry but upset, her eyes filling with tears as she sighed deeply. "I spend weeks planning this party for you and you simply... leave? You left me alone with all those guests who kept on asking me where you are and all I could say was that I didn't know. I spent the entire time bringing out snacks and serving up cake without any help. I know you were the guest of honour but you were a host just as much as I." Her voice began to crack as she cast her eyes around the messy lawn: the cleanup operation was going to take up the whole of the next day. "I am so disappointed in you, Spike. I really hoped that you would be there for me, that you had grown up. I suppose I thought wrong." With a flick of her tail she turned her back on Spike and returned to the tree, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the tree. Spike was once again left alone with only the sounds of the night to keep him company. _It was a mistake to come back_, he thought miserably, looking around the lawn in dismay. He decided not to try to make things up with Twilight that night; _I may as well make it three ponies that I disappoint tonight_, he thought, as he once again slinked away towards the Everfree Forest.


	6. All I need to be happy

The following morning, Sweetie Belle was making toast. As she worked she sang softly, her delicate melodies weaving through the small cottage where she had made her home. She had been up since before the dawn after a restless night of very little sleep. She had stayed at the party until only a few core friends remained; they had been waiting patiently for Spike to return so they could wish him a happy birthday once more but after a point they could not wait any more and they reluctantly headed towards their respective homes. Sweetie Belle left with them, her head cast down with disappointment. She was hoping to say a final few words to Spike and maybe even apologise for her behaviour earlier in the evening but his absence at the end of the party upset her as if he had slapped her in the face. Did he leave because of her? She realised with a slight shock that she hadn't seen Rarity at the end of the party, either... why hadn't she noticed that earlier? Sweetie Belle stamped her hoof with irritation as she levitated a bowl full of boiling liquid towards the breakfast table. Try as she might, she could never get simple recipes right.

She continued to sing her song, pausing every few seconds to run over the same lines again. She had been working on this song for several months now but she still could not get it right; was it the melody or the lyrics that was causing the problem, or was it the rhythm? It was a soft, breezy song that made her sway gently as she sang; she closed her eyes as the melody soared and, without her even realising, the light in the room began to swell and shimmer and, in the centre of the ball of light that was forming, Sweetie Belle's horn began to glow. This was Sweetie Belle's magic that corresponded to her gift, the ability to cast a warm and beautiful light around the room as she sang. She had been teased for the apparent uselessness of her magic but this had never phased the young unicorn: she, like her sister, had a passion for aesthetics and art in all its forms. Light and music blended in a twin chorus of beauty were all that Sweetie Belle needed to be happy and, as she continued to sing her haunting melody, the light began to revolve around her as if she were caught in the swirling arms of a galaxy.

_All I need to be happy,_ she thought, and suddenly the spell was broken. The light faded almost instantly as her eyes snapped open and her last few notes faded into oblivion. She paused for a moment and watched her toast bubble on the table in front of her as she tilted her head in thought. On impulse she looked over her shoulder at her cutie mark; the small pink heart was completely enveloped by the treble clef and looked tiny and unimportant in comparison. Sweetie Belle knew the true meaning of her cutie mark: that music may be her talent but at the root of her music was love. Love had always been her inspiration from the start: love for her friends, love for her dreams, love for her family and her sister. Her songs had always been born of her passion and her emotions and that is what left all who heard her entranced and spellbound. Some called it her beauty but Sweetie Belle thought better of the ponies of Ponyville: they all knew, on a deeper level, that her physical beauty had nothing to do with it.

Still. That did not change the fact that she _still_ could not get this song right. She tapped her foot absent-mindedly on the kitchen tiles as she sipped her toast, memories from the night before running through her mind. As she was mulling things over there was a sharp knock at the door and, before she could call to the visitor to come in, Rarity had already entered the kitchen. She stood on the threshold of the room as if she were in some ways afraid to enter and Sweetie Belle thought that she looked awful; she had dark circles under her eyes and her mane was not as bouncy as usual. Sweetie Belle turned towards her sister with genuine concern in her eyes: she knew that her sister would never dare leaving her house in this state unless she were either considerably troubled or she had something incredibly important to attend to. _From the look of Rarity's face_, Sweetie Belle thought, _it's both._

Sweetie Belle was unsure if she wanted to speak first so she was glad when Rarity did. "I told him," the mare said, her voice crisp and even. She held her sister's gaze as she spoke as if she was anxious to convey the gravity of the situation. "I took him aside last night and I told him. You needn't worry anymore."

Sweetie Belle swallowed nervously and stammered a few syllables, her mind suddenly empty. Rarity was watching her intently but Sweetie Belle got the impression that her sister was not after a response but was gauging her reaction to the news. After what seemed like a lifetime had passed the young sister cleared her throat and finally was able to speak. "What... what did you say to him?"

"The truth," Rarity said sharply. She watched her sister with her critical eye as she held her head high. "I saw you take him aside, Sweetie Belle, and I knew you were telling him everything _but_ the truth. So I decided to tell him myself."

Sweetie Belle's breath caught in her throat and she felt her head swim with the news. She suddenly felt faint, as if her hooves could no longer support her and she was about to topple on the tiles out cold. Rarity had not changed her expression and was still watching her as still as a stone, her mane still bristled and out of place. Sweetie Belle broke eye contact to look around the room wildly, as if she could somehow escape from this situation that she had been placed in. Instead, she began to wail; a long, drawn out sound that appeared, to Sweetie Belle's ear, to be just the note that her song was missing.

"Rarity, what have you done?" she screamed, her eyes filling with tears. "Why did you tell him? Why? How could you, _why_ did you-?"

"Don't you _dare_ condemn me for my actions, Sweetie Belle!" Rarity shrieked indignantly. "I did the _right_ thing, even though you may not see it that way. This pining of yours, this longing, this agony... it's turning you into the shadow of the pony I know you really are. I did what was best for you, little sister."

Sweetie Belle growled softly, her forehead furrowing into a deep frown. "Dear sister, you know _nothing_," she hissed. She breezed past Rarity out of the room and in her blind rage she raced out of the front door of her cottage, galloping as fast as her legs could carry her. Her eyes stung in the morning air as she raced towards town, gasping for breath as she ran. She knew where she was running even though that was the last place where she wanted to be; eventually Twilight Sparkle's tree home loomed above her, casting a long shadow in front of the low sun. When she arrived at the front door she began to knock rapidly, casting earnest glances up at the windows of the top floor. After a moment Twilight Sparkle stuck her head out of the top window looking dishevelled: clearly Rarity was not the only pony that had not slept last night. Before she had the chance to say a word Sweetie Belle forced out: "Spike... where is... he?"

Twilight Sparkle frowned and shook her head. "He left last night. He came back briefly after the party and then he left again. He hasn't returned yet. He has had me worried sick all night." From her high vantage point Twilight looked over to the Everfree Forest and the mountains beyond, a look of concern passing across her face. "He wasn't himself last night. I'm worried about him."

Sweetie Belle sighed, her heart thumping almost audibly in her chest. Her head fell forward and her long mane covered her face and skimmed the ground, a feature for which she was grateful as it hid her newly blossoming tears. She cleared her throat and glanced up at Twilight who was still watching the forest, her whole face etched with concern bordering on fear. "When will he be back?" Sweetie Belle asked quietly in between her frantic gasps.

Twilight Sparkle shrugged. "Who knows? He is a dragon, after all. They work differently to ponies. Their emotions work in mysterious ways. Who knows what really motivates him? How can we be sure that we know him at all?"

The sun began to twinkle in the sky and the air was filled with sounds of ponies everywhere stirring in their houses. Sweetie Belle fell to the ground in defeat and Twilight Sparkle's questions went unanswered, the wind carrying away the sound of her voice until even the faint echoes were lost in the new day.


	7. A Hilltop Concert

A few years earlier…

Sweetie Belle was lost in a book, reading furiously. Her head was pounding and her eyes were screwed up in concentration as she combed each page, her right hoof tapping against the book in her impatience. She was so engrossed in her reading that she did not notice Rarity and Spike enter the room, nor did she see the look of concern that passed between them. Sweetie Belle had been at it all day and had not touched a bite to eat or had a break in any way for days now. All she had done was read book after book, throwing them aside violently when she finished with one volume before turning onto another. As the days wore on the look of defeat and anguish grew on her face and her mane drooped weakly from her scalp. She currently looked worse than ever and her eyes were bloodshot due to her reading from the light of a single candle. Rarity and Spike exchanged another solemn glance before leaving the room and quietly shutting the door behind them.

"I just don't know what to do, Spike," Rarity sighed, her eyes downcast as she pawed the ground nervously. "She has been like this for days and no matter what I say or do she just won't listen. I wanted to stay with her tonight to make sure she's okay but I _really_ can't miss this thing tonight-"

"No fear, Rarity," Spike interrupted, standing tall and confident. Already his mind was whirring as he thought how he could somehow turn this favour into something he could use to his advantage. Sure, he felt guilty about using this moment of weakness on the part of both Rarity and Sweetie Belle for his own personal gain but these days, with so many suitors in Ponyville after Rarity for a very special somepony, every little thing counted. "You hurry on along now, Rarity. You don't want to be late."

Rarity nodded and turned back to the door behind her, nudging it open slightly to get one last look at her sister. "Do you think," Rarity whispered to Spike, "that you'll be able to get her to talk a little? Just for a little while? She won't speak to me, but _you_…"

"Rarity, go," Spike whispered, gently pulling the unicorn towards the front door of the Boutique. "I can handle her. I will see you later tonight."

Rarity looked back at the door as she exited her home before suddenly breaking into a trot, moving away from her home as fast as she could manage with dignity. She hated herself but she had to get out of there, away from Sweetie Belle and her books. Rarity hated how she couldn't help her sister when she needed her and she couldn't stand the fact that she couldn't give Sweetie Belle the answers she craved. Spike, with his honest wisdom and tact, would be the best individual to give her sister help now. She trotted off into the darkness, leaving Carousel Boutique standing quietly behind her.

Spike, meanwhile, had slipped back into the dimly lit room where Sweetie Belle was still fervently reading. He tiptoed quietly over to her desk and pulled up a chair so he could sit beside her; despite everything that Rarity had told her she had neglected to inform Spike as to what sort of books she was reading and now, with the multitudes of books piled high around Sweetie Belle, Spike could finally take a long look at their covers. The books were all how-to guides on how to do every subject imaginable: glass-blowing, skiing, basic alchemy… there seemed to be no topic that wasn't represented in Sweetie Belle's collection of books.

Spike cleared his throat. "Sweetie Belle…?" he said quietly, watching her anxiously as she turned the page of her current book with silent fury. As expected, she ignored him, reading on and blinking at an alarmingly rapid rate. Spike repeated her name several times to try and get her attention but she refused to answer or – it was possible – she hadn't even noticed he was there. How the young pony was awake still after all these hours and hours of reading Spike would never know. He knew that he had to do something drastic or she would read on and on like this forever, destroying her fragile eyes and crushing her already fractured spirit. Spike inhaled deeply and, before Sweetie Belle could react, Spike blew a gust of flame onto the book Sweetie Belle currently held in her hooves. With a yelp Sweetie Belle dropped the book and jumped backwards away from her desk, her chair falling to the floor with a clatter. The book's pages curled in the magic heat and, with a soft crackle, the book disappeared in a green burst of smoke. The smell of burnt paper lingered in the room as Sweetie Belle and Spike stood deathly still, staring at the spot where the book had been just a few moments ago. The only sound was that of Sweetie Belle's rapid breathing; with a gasp she suddenly whipped around to face Spike and, before the dragon could react, she hit him round the face with a forehoof. Spike stumbled backwards, crashing into a jumbled pile of books that fell around him like hardback rain. As Spike attempted to regain his composure he looked up at Sweetie Belle's advancing figure: her eyes were wild with fury and a drop of saliva rested beside her mouth as she bared her teeth at the dragon before her. For a moment, Spike wondered if Sweetie Belle had lost her mind: there was little sanity in those eyes and her matted fur and mane suggested that she had been wondering in the Everfree forest for weeks instead of simply sitting here studying. Instead of worry and compassion, however, Spike was surprised to find himself feeling a different emotion: pity.

"Sweetie Belle…" Spike began and, to his surprise, this time she responded.

"What, Spike?" she hissed, grinding her front hoof into the carpet. "What is it now? What could you possibly want with me?"

_Where do I begin?_ Thought Spike. At this point, there were multiple things that Spike wanted from Sweetie Belle. To stop reading so furiously, to stop drooling like a rabid dog, to help him up from the floor. But he knew that they were going to get nowhere until she told him what the matter was.

"What's wrong, Sweetie Belle?" Spike asked in his most soothing voice. He did not believe at this stage that simply asking her to open up would be successful. _It's best to attack the problem head on_.

"What do you care what the matter is?" Sweetie Belle growled, turning on her heels and storming over to another stack of books. With a grunt she shoved the stack of books over so they fell into a heap on the floor; without missing a beat she bucked another stack until they too fell and she attacked another, continuing until the floor was covered in battered tomes. Sweetie Belle breathed in deeply and sat down heavily onto the only clear space of floor remaining. Her eyes were filled with exhaustion and even her horn appeared to be drooping. Spike had never seen a pony so internally injured, so defeated and so – he hated to say it – pathetic. There was something unusual at stake here: this was possibly beyond anything that Spike could deal with. _But I have to try_, he thought as he pulled himself into a sitting position. For a few moments he simply watched her, trying to read between the lines and look deeper into the issue. On the outside she seemed fine besides her matted fur and her mane, although unkempt, fell in a lilac and rose-coloured waterfall down her neck. Her mane had grown extremely long and there had been many envious mutterings around ponyville about her extraordinary beauty. The only thing that was missing, of course, was her cutie mark. With a jolt Spike finally understood and, whilst kicking himself internally, he stood up and moved slowly towards Sweetie Belle's slumped figure. As he got closer he could see that the spot where her cutie mark will one day be was missing patches of hair. In her anguish Sweetie Belle must have been rubbing the spot raw. Spike knelt down slowly next to the young pony and cautiously rested a claw on her shoulder. She did not shake the paw off, nor did she acknowledge it: she just continued to stare into space as tears bloomed in the corners of her eyes.

"I can't pretend to understand what you're going through," Spike began, not knowing what to really say to the pony before him. "But I can listen to whatever you have to say. Your sister is so worried about you-"

"My sister?" Sweetie Belle echoed, snorting a little. "She doesn't understand. She doesn't seem to get what any of this is really about." There was a slight pause as she looked up at the sea of books around her and Spike took the opportunity to be bold.

"Do "I can't pretend to understand what you're going through," Spike began, not knowing what to really say to the pony before him. "But I can listen to whatever you have to say. Your sister is so worried about you-"

"My sister?" Sweetie Belle echoed, snorting a little. "She doesn't understand. She doesn't seem to get what any of this is really about." There was a slight pause as she looked up at the sea of books around her and Spike took the opportunity to be bold.

"Do _you_ know what all of this is really about?" he asked. Sweetie Belle snapped her head around with another burst of fury and, as she was about to speak, Spike pressed on. "Because, Sweetie Belle, if this is still about your cutie mark then I think you still don't understand what-"

With a deep growl Sweetie Belle launched on to her feet, shrugging Spike's claw away as she towered over him. "How _dare_ you try and claim that you know _anything_-"

"I just said I _know_ I can't ever understand!" Spike snapped back, jumping to his feet also and pulling himself to his full height. He was no longer as short as he once was but he was at least Sweetie Belle's height now and he was determined to get his point across. "I can't ever _understand_ but I _know_ that this – what you're doing here, whatever this is – is _not_ the way you get your cutie mark. Do you think your special talent is worrying your sister, not getting any sleep or food, driving yourself crazy? How can _any_ of this help you?" In a flurry of passion Spike breathed in deep and, with all of his might, be blew a fireball of green fire onto the sea of books around them. The books rapidly caught alight, the fire spreading rapidly until all of the books had begun to crinkle and burn. Sweetie Belle gave a yelp of shock as the books began to rapidly disappear and, within moments, all the books that she had spent days reading had disappeared, leaving only the stench of burnt pages as a reminder of her labours. Sweetie Belle's eyes glistened with shock and fury and, with a wail, she slumped back onto the floor, her mane covering her face as she began to weep softly. Spike once again knelt down beside her and, as before, he rested a claw on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "But it had to be done… you know it had to be done. These books were driving you crazy." Sweetie Belle looked up to meet his gaze: her eyes – the most beautiful eyes in Ponyville, if not Equestria, some said – were glistening with fresh tears. They held each other's gaze for a moment and, to the young dragon's surprise, Sweetie Belle suddenly drew Spike into a close embrace, smothering him with her unkempt mane. She let him go as suddenly as she had embraced him and even managed a small smile.

"Spike," she began, looking awkwardly away at the wall. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure," Spike answered cautiously. Sweetie Belle seemed as if she was almost back to normal at this point and he did not want to spook her. She tapped the floor gently with a free hoof and, very quietly, she muttered her secret.

"I can't do magic," she mumbled. "Not any magic, not at all. I have never been able to even levitate an object like Rarity can do. And no, it's not because I'm still young," she added hastily as she saw Spike's mouth begin to open to interject, "it's because I _can't _do magic. I think I'm a dud. I find it hard to believe that my special talent has anything to do with magic anyway but it makes me feel like a failure somehow. Most unicorns can perform a fair amount of magical feats by now. Why not me?"

"Twilight says that magic only happens when you want it to, but I have never believed that," Spike responded, carefully choosing each word. "I believe that magic comes from _inside_ you, from your heart. Only when you are truly in tune with who you are that magic will happen. If you, you know, ignore the corny bits," Spike added quickly, causing Sweetie Belle to giggle softly.

"I suppose you're right," Sweetie Belle responded with a sigh. But I am just so… frustrated. I don't know what to do next or where to turn. What do you suggest, Spike?" she asked, meeting his eyes once again. "If you were me, what would you do?"

Spike thought for a moment and, without warning, a huge grin erupted on his face. Without another word he grabbed Sweetie Belle's hoof and began to drag her towards the door. "Just follow me!" he gasped, laughing a little as he stumbled out of the door. Sweetie Belle, to his surprise, began to gallop behind him, giggling softly as they raced out of Carousel Boutique and out into the night. They sped through Ponyville and out into the wide green fields beyond, the thud of Sweetie Belle's hooves and their rapid breathing – and the occasional laugh – being the only sounds to break the peace of the cool evening. They raced to the top of a nearby hill from which they could see over the whole of sleepy Ponyville, the Everfree forest and even the twinkling lights of Canterlot in the far distance; here Spike stopped abruptly and fell onto the ground, feeling only the thud of Sweetie Belle collapsing next to him. They began to laugh from the sheer exhilaration of the run and, as the quiet of the night began to reclaim the scene, Sweetie Belle turned to face Spike. The dragon was glad to see that some colour had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were gleaming with life: a welcome change from the waif-like shadow of a pony that he had found studying so furiously earlier that evening.

"What was all _that_ about?" Sweetie Belle gasped, a smile brightening her face.

"I thought you could use a change of scene," Spike puffed, staring up at the stars high above them. "It's a beautiful night and it's a shame that you were missing it. I thought you would like to see the moon," he continued, gesturing to the silver sphere that floated above their town. "How about we greet it?"

"Greet it?" Sweetie Belle giggled, shaking her head in confusion. "Have you gone mad?"

"Like this," Spike said, jumping to his feet and letting out a high-pitched howl. The sound seemed abnormally loud in the quiet of the night and, as his howl faded, the echo returning from the foothills around Ponyville complemented his call. As he began to howl again Sweetie Belle joined in, raising one hoof off the ground as she let out everything inside her, only pausing when she had used up every ounce of breath in her body. As she gasped for air Spike wheeled around to face her, his face plastered with a wide grin.

"Just let it all out, don't think, just do it," Spike said quickly: his excitement was infectious. "Just look deep down inside and let that Sweetie Belle, the _real_ Sweetie Belle, out. She's in there somewhere!" He took a deep breath and howled again, beating his chest with his paws like an ape.

Sweetie Belle planted each of her four hooves firmly onto the ground and took deep, shallow breaths. She shut her eyes tight, trying hard not to think, just to _feel_. In this blank canvas of a night she knew that she could at least try to find out what was inside her, what was waiting to come out. She took a deep breath and prepared to howl again: in one fluid movement she raised her face to look at the sky, tossed her mane back over her shoulder and let out all that was inside her.

Spike let his howl drop as he turned slowly to watch Sweetie Belle, bathed in soft moonlight, let out the most hauntingly beautiful sound that he had ever heard in his entire life. Her eyes were closed as she held the gentle note, her front hoof poised delicately in the air. She slowly opened her eyes as the note raised a tone higher and higher still until she had completed an entire octave. Spike could not help but watch her as she continued to hold a single breath but, to his absolute shock, she was not done yet. As she sang her horn began to softly glow, casting a silver light onto the scene around them. As her singing grew in power so did the glow, casting more light around them and sending beams of light into the sky to rival the glow of the moon. The glow began to slowly change colour to a sky-blue hue, contrasting with the dull colours of the hillside. Spike remained transfixed on the glow as he began to see- no, that wasn't what he was seeing, was it? Was he seeing _images_ in the glow? Were those clouds… were those _birds_? Even though his eyes refused to believe it Sweetie Belle could produce moving pictures in the magic glow that she produced when she sang as well as the glorious, beautiful light that was turning night into day all around them. Sweetie Belle's note was beginning to fade: Spike had no idea how she was still maintaining it as she must have no breath left in her lungs. Before the note dropped, however, she turned her head to meet Spike's gaze and, for a moment, Spike could see a beauty far beyond that of the light all around them. Her eyes were filled with triumph, joy and – could it be? – meaning. The sky-scene that Sweetie Belle had produced in the glow of her horn was fading as rapidly as her note was but, as soon as the pony met Spike's gaze, the light changed to a soft, warm red colour. Spike could no longer feel the cold of the night but he could sense the crackle of this new, extraordinary magic. Sweetie Belle finally set the note free and the glow finally began to fade, the echo of her music returning to them like an encore.

Sweetie Belle continued to look at Spike as she took short, shallow breaths to replenish her starved lungs. Spike broke her gaze only when he was distracted by a soft twinkling in his peripheral: with a gasp he realised that that twinkle was not a distance star but a treble clef-shaped cutie mark wrapped around a small pink heart that had settled firmly upon Sweetie Belle's flank. Spike had no words: he could only point, looking back at Sweetie Belle's face as he swallowed. She turned her head to look and, with a look of intense, unbridled rapture, she let out a howl of joy into the night air. She began to race around the hilltop, bucking and rearing with all she had inside her.

"Of _course!_" she laughed, rearing towards the moon as her eyes filled with tears. "I had a tune in me all along!" She soon began to slow down, trotting around Spike in circles in a restless manner. Spike had to forcefully restrain her, pushing her firmly down onto the ground so that she would just stay _still_ for one moment. She looked up at him with her eyes glistening with rapture and, before Spike could react, she kissed him on the cheek.


End file.
